I Share your Darkness
by Syrubis
Summary: We're all born with a darkness inside us, it twists, grows, morphs into something more. Sometimes it takes us over, other times we feed it. Then there are the times where we find peace and understand that just like there is a light in people there will always be a shadow. Evil Jack/Pitch


**I Share your Darkness  
**

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Here we go! Okay, will do the first two chapters with a jump between perspectives so you guys can decide what one you want.  
To see through the eyes of Pitch  
Or through the eyes of Jack?  
On one hand, Pitch is awesome. On the other hand it might be more fun NOT knowing how he feels and sees things. It sort of boils down to who you love more. If I go with Pitch you'll mostly get how wonderful Jack as, how sexy, how much Pitch wants to do dirty things. I go with Jack and we get all that lovely hidden emotion and long drawn out feels, plus the sexy fantasies for a sexy Pitch. Anyway, you guys choose.

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**WARNINGS  
**There will be graphic gore, violence, langue and sexual scenes and themes alone the lines of abuse, murder, torture and several other troubling topics along with good old fashioned fluff and sexual frustration. I can assure you that there are some people who just won't like it, and then some who will have their demented bone thoroughly tickled... If any of these things offended you than just don't read, no angry comments or horrid reviews. If you don't like it, don't tell me. If on the other hand you like it but have CONSTRUCTIVE criticism than please! I'm not going to get any better if you don't point out my flaws! I'm here to get better not protect my delicate ego.

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**Okay, I hate having to jump whole sections, but really you don't want to read the movie all over so I just included the parts I wanted to change for various reasons.**

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Pitch circled the frozen darkness, eyes narrowed as he contemplated the ice sprite before him. Jack was just as stubborn as ever, his gaze unwavering as he stood, his staff pointed at the shadow man's chest and his feet planted firmly in the snow. If anything the boy was brave, especially in the face of the very embodiment of all that was dark and unforgiving. Pitch chuckled, his hands clasped behind his back as he waited for the child to respond.

"They'll _fear_ both of us," Jack said slowly, his eyes flickering downward, "and that's not what I want." He sighed, turning his back on the shadow as he called over his shoulder "Now, for the last time, leave me alone." Pitch's lips curled upward in a sinister smile.

"Very well" he replied quietly, pulling the small shivering form from his pocket, or rather her cage on the other side of the world, easily accessed through the shadows. "You want to be left alone?" he asked. "Done. But first."

The creature cried pitifully, struggling against the colourless grasp she found herself trapped in. He held her up against the winds, his face expressionless as the boy turned, his eyes blown wide as he sprinted closer, as though he thought there was anything he could do. Pitch watched him, analyzing his movements.

"Baby tooth!" Jack gasped, sliding to a halt on the cool snow. She whimpered, her bright eyes pleading for his help as he twirled his staff around and aimed it at the darkness that held her. Pitch smirked, the frost sprites light blue eyes were now filled with worry, with fear. Oh how he loved that look, and understood it. He could practically taste it.

"The staff, Jack!" He demanded, spitting the boy's name from his tongue. The sprite only grew more bold, aiming his staff as though he might actually attempt the blow. The creature in Pitch's palm chittered, begging the boy to refuse, but the shadow easily saw the change in his eyes. His grasp on the conduit weakened and his face slowly lost the bold expression it held merely moments ago.

"You have a bad habit of interfering," Pitch said calmly, "now hand it over and I'll let her go"

Jack stood there, uncertain as his gaze flickered from the helpless creature to the villain who threatened her life. Pitch watched calmly, patiently. He could see he'd already won as the boy's arms fell slack and he gave one final glance at the object he held most dearly. Pitch allowed himself a malicious smile.

Jack held the staff in his hand, feeling its weight for the last time before turning away and twirling the end towards the man before him, his eyes closed. Pitch knew that look well, knew for the moment that the boy was far from here in a world far kinder. He reached over lazily and grasped the end before sliding it gently away from the child. It warmed quickly under his fingers, leaving nothing left but a useless stick in his hand.

"Alright," Jack said firmly, finally bringing his gaze back to the cold amber glowing eyes of the demon before him, "now let her go."

Pitch considered the boys outstretched palm and he felt the smile melt from his face. He suddenly despised this boy, this creature who cast him aside just as everyone else, despite the fact he knew _exactly_ what it felt like. This child was as cruel as he was, as cruel and heartless as the shadows Pitch had lost himself to.

"No." he said dully, shaking his head a little as he leaned away, drawing the creature close again. "You said you wanted to be alone." He drawled in monotone. "So be alone."

Pitch smelt it long before the boy's features could match it, the fear he felt in his heart. It seeped through his veins, invaded his being. Pitch Black could feel all of it, like a shiver up his spine, a coldness in his heart. He grinned wide, his sharp grey teeth causing the boy to emotionally recoil. The demon gripped the creature firmly, a screech working its way up her throat. The sound made the boy ill as he reached for her, knowing he was helpless. Pitch continued to crush, feeling the delicate wings snap and crackle in his grasp.

"No!" Jack cried, his deep blue eyes finally flickering up from his friend and into a far colder stare than his own. The shadow looked at him, his face once again emotionless as his hand continued to grow tighter around the warm creature. He would have crushed it, could have. Instead he felt something he'd not felt in many years. Guilt. He felt guilty for his actions, for the thick red liquid that grew sticky in his grasp and trickled through his fingers, hitting the snow so vividly it left a scar on the world.

He stopped, and he considered the boy before him once more. The eyes that pleaded for the soul before him. He didn't care about the creature he was harming, oh no, he loved this part the best. What he didn't like was the way the child looked at him, not with hatred but with sadness, all the while begging and hoping. Oh yes, Pitch could feel that. The hope.

"No" Jack whispered. "Please."

Pitch smiled and the moment stretched on for eternity. Finally his grip loosened and he gave the young boy a polite nod. "Very well." His fingers uncurled and the fairy slipped away, landing in the snow with a sickening splat. In the few moments that followed pitch grasped the staff firmly between his hands, bringing it down against his knee with enough force to break bones, grinning wide as he felt the aged wood give way. The boy screamed in agony, grabbing his chest as he felt something within him die. Pitch reveled in it, the black sand crawling its way from his cloak in a hissing mist, finally lashing out and sending the boy flying into the icy cliff behind him.

After that there was nothing but silence.

Pitch leaned over and scooped the staff up from the snow, walking casually towards the crevice and the unconscious boy bellow. A cruel chuckle itched its way up his throat as he dropped the useless stick and turned to leave. He had more important things to do, and once again he'd do them alone.

He walked in silence, the howling of the tundra winds drowning out the sound of his own steaming breath. He gave the giant shadowed sculpture one last longing look, before he stepped into its shadow and was gone from the world, disappearing completely and leaving the sleeping child well and truly alone.

**O x O**

When Jack woke he found himself in a dark world. The moon leering over him as the icey winds bit into his flesh. He never felt cold, but here in perhaps his darkest hour he felt more human than he'd ever felt. He backed up into a corner, drawing his legs close as he buried his face in his arms. He felt ill, his chest tight though he couldn't tell if it was from the loss of his friends, the death of the creature he'd quickly grown to adore or the feeling of hollowness, like he'd lost his centre and with it any hopes of discovering what it could have been.

He sat there for hours, silent as he listened to the world around him, so quiet. Every time he thought it would be different, every time he felt as though he had a place _this_ is where he'd end up. Every time. Always. He wasn't meant to be with anyone, he was supposed to be alone.

He whimpered pitifully, holding himself tightly as the pain in his chest seemed to curl more firmly around his very soul. He felt the moisture in his eyes, the loneliness he was so very used to. It never stopped hurting but he never cried, he'd stay here for a few days, maybe even a few years, then just as he always did he'd fly away, take to the winds with a smile on his lips and the heaviness of his heart a reminder that for a small amount of time his world seemed like it would be better.

The wind continued to blow.

The hours passed.

Until, finally, there was a twitter. Meek and distant, but not as distant as he would have expected. He quickly looked up, the snow around him slowing and falling more peacefully.

"Little Tooth!" He gasped, diving forward onto his stomach as his hands wrapped protectively over the small creature before him, cold and bloodied but still very much alive. She chirped gratefully but he could tell he only made her colder. He looked her over, her crushed wings no longer capable of anything more than aesthetics and her soft feathers, admittedly ruffled and stained, were largely missing. But besides that she was okay. Perhaps a little bruised and certainly in pain but the very core of it was that she was still _alive_.

"He… He let you live…" Jack breathed, blinking away the tears the threatened to spill over. She chirped distastefully, hoping along his arm as he knelt up, his eyes focused into the distance. She warbled and disappeared into the pocket of his jacket, bringing him back to a dark reality. He smiled bitterly, curling back into the frozen wall and closing his eyes. He let her live…

The two were quiet, he could feel her fidget uncomfortably, cold and very much in pain. It was his fault. "I'm sorry little tooth." He sighed, stroking his jacket. She shifted under his fingers and he withdrew, afraid of hurting her more than she already was. She made an odd noise, then a voice echoed in the air around him.

"Jack?" it called.

"Jack?"

He looked down, his pocket glowing a brilliant gold. He jumped back in shock, gasping loudly before pulling the ornate gold tooth tray into the open. He looked at it, really looked. This held everything, all the answers he'd been waiting for. Three hundred years, three hundred years of searching, of begging for something, anything. Here it was.

His hand trembled.

Baby toothed smiled gently, tapping the container encouragingly. He looked at her, honestly scared of what he might find. What if he didn't want to know? What… What if this was his punishment. What if… He was the bad guy. He held his breath and before he could change his mind pressed his palm against it. It slowly lit, opened to him, and he was plunged into a world some three hundred years ago.

**O x O**

"Looks like it's your fear they smell" Jack said strongly, his shoulders back. Pitch looked at him coldly, the fear in his amber eyes apparent. His stepped back, finally snapping his head around at the dozens of shadowy creatures that only grew closer with each passing second. "No." he whispered, finally turning back to the sprite with snow white hair and deep blue eyes. "No." he mouthed again, his voice failing him. His chest rising and falling so quickly it seemed unnatural. He braced himself for their impact but his gaze never left the child before him, and it was not a gaze of hatred.

Jack felt his stomach turn as he watched, his lips suddenly dry, his hands firm around his staff. He could feel it, could see it. The sheer horror in the demons eyes, and it made him sick. He stepped forward as though he might stop them, do something, anything, but instead those liquid ice eyes met the burning oranges with fear, guilt and sympathy. "I'm sorry" the boy mouthed, and he watched something inside the man brake, saw something change, and just like that the black sand hissed with anger, lunging forward and coiling around their previous master as they dragged him away, feeding from his very essence.

**O x O**

And so the years went on.

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Jack floated through the sky, carried by the gentle winds as he searched the landscape. It was warm tonight, though not unpleasantly so. It felt strange against his frozen skin, not quite like it did when he was human. It was odd, remembering things like that. It didn't feel like his memories, but at the same time he felt like he had never forgotten them. He angled his way into a faster current, delighted by the sudden speed as he soared high above the earth.

The ground bellow grew muddy the further he went, the area around him overgrown with large trees that twisted and tangled themselves together. The frost sprite couldn't tell for certain where exactly he was, only that it was far from home. He'd followed the subtle traces of fear that belonged to the man who once controlled it. Fear was like that, it never died, it scarred the land and the places around it. Jack didn't sense it quite like the keeper of fears did, for Jack it was just a tingle in his spine but it was enough to get him where he wanted to be, this time at least.

After a short while the winds began to settle and the sprite rode them carefully down, landing so gently he barely disturbed the moss beneath his feet. He knew this was the place but was disappointed to find the tunnel missing. He looked from side to side, scanning the ground in case he misjudged the exact location but the brief look gave him nothing. No, this was the right place, he remembered it very clearly, so why was it the entrance had disappeared?

He wedged his staff in the soft earth and hopped atop it, crouching down as he continued to look for a disruption in the dirt or grass. From where he stood the area looked completely natural, he decided he needed to look from a different angle. He kicked off of his staff quickly, rising up and above the area, and though it was dark he quickly spotted what he'd been searching for. Tendrils of dirt stretched out in gorgeous patterns, all coming inwards and wrapping around a misshapen patch of earth completely absent of any life.

He dropped back down, landing back on his staff as it tilted, he slid along it till his feet touched the oddly shaped circle of dirt and reached behind him, catching his staff before it fell and twirling it above him, eventually hooking it on his hood so he could lean down and examine the earth more closely.

His fingers traced a few of the patterns, veins of ice rippling along them as he did so. He breathed slowly, freezing the vapour in the air and giving him the appearance of a steaming snowman. He pushed at the ground gently, slowly applying more pressure as he tested the stability of the once deep tunnel now completely covered. He'd need a bit more blasting power to get through here than he currently possessed, and of course asking the guardians to help him was certainly not a possibility. He stood and began pacing, crossing his arms against his chest as he ran through a few possibilities. Eventually he settled for the most basic approach, lifting his staff in one hand, flipping it upside-down and slowly waving it through the air.

At first it collected nothing but chilled fog but soon it began to freeze, each drop of water originally invisible grew solid and collected at the staff's base. It didn't take long for it to form, just your average run of the mill ice shovel. He smirked at his handy work, lowering to eye-level as he twisted it around, breathing patterns into the solid ice. Finally he flipped his staff around and pushed it down into the soft earth.

He dug for many hours, slowly losing himself in a dark tunnel that seemed to have no exit. His own tunnel, of course, but after he gradually lost sight of the moon he found himself grow nervous. He was hoping to eventually drop into the original tunnel, or even an area remotely similar to what he'd originally seen of Pitch's home. In truth, he had no idea what to expect, or even if Pitch was still alive down there. He swallowed dryly. He didn't like the man but the idea of him simply not being left a sour taste in his mouth.

"You seem nervous." Came a velvety voice suspiciously close to his ear. He yelped and jumped backward but with limited space all he did was slam himself painfully into the wall of earth behind him. The shadows chuckled dangerously before Jack suddenly found himself free of the confides of his tunnel and out in the open, the word was used loosely, in a very large and empty cavern. The circular area was rough but seemed to form a somewhat angled dome, roughly the size of a stadium. Jack fidgeted nervously, his hand wrapped tightly around his staff as he looked around the 'room'. In the distance he could see a steady orange glow, but all the area between that was pitch black, which he suspected was Pitch's handy work.

He floated up into the stagnant air, there was no breeze here so he wasn't able to drift lazily along and instead walked forward, his steps freezing the humid air beneath him and leaving literal footsteps in his wake. He stayed alert, ready for any tricks the shadow man might play but as he continued to move towards the light it seemed less and less likely something would occur.

Soon he was able to distinguish the shape ahead of him, a flickering fire, a chair angled so he could see a dark figure there, hunched over, another figure by his feet that watched him with vibrant gold eyes, a large rug illuminated by the fire and a table and bookshelf a little further off, directly in front of Pitch and only just being touched by the shadows.

"What happened to your… Lair?" Jack asked curiously, his voice echoing in the emptiness around them as he slowly grew close enough to see the subtle changes in form that made up the nightmare at Pitch's feet.

"It's still here, I just didn't want to sit under a collection of rusted cages, for obvious reasons."

"Oh." Jack replied. "But the entrance is-"

"Gone, yes, thank you for pointing out the obvious." He drawled.

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions." Pitch answered dully, sitting upright as he turned his body toward the sprite now landing gracefully to stand uncomfortably at the edge of his rug. Jack wasn't sure if he should go any further, worried he might offend the demon before him. As though somehow it was impolite to touch anything that this man owned. If he called even be called that.

"I like answers" Jack replied honestly. "I thought the nightmares…"

The vibrant orange eyes before him disappeared the moment he began to speak, quickly followed by a harsh voice. "You thought _what_ exactly?" Pitch growled in his ear but was gone the moment Jack turned to him. "Hoping they'd destroy me, were you?" Pitch growled, though his location was getting harder and harder to pinpoint as his shadows danced across the floor.

"No-" Jack argued, only to be cut off.

"It's not that easy, I'm not that weak!" Pitch snapped. The frost sprite turned in what he hoped was the right direction and was met with a pair of piercing lava-coloured eyes. The demon seemed defensive, though that was to be expected. He had watched the man lose everything he'd been working for, only to have his own minions turn against him. "Why are you here?" the fear demon finally demanded, folding his arms across his chest with the glow of the fire behind him. Jack turned to him quickly, lifting his staff though he had no intention of using it.

"All these years and this is the welcome I get?" he grinned "I came to see-"

"If I was dead? Sorry, you're out of luck."

"No!" The sprite snarled. "I came to see if you were okay."

Pitch's expression remained calm, almost bored. "Of course you did." He said flatly, turning away to settle himself back in his chair. Jack stared at him for a moment before he finally lowered his staff and took a casual step forward, pointing at the nightmare with the end of his stick.

"Why's it still here?" He asked, the mare glanced up at him but quickly went back to sleeping, or ignoring him, which was probably more likely.

"Why are _you_ still here?" Pitch replied, flipping open a book and leaning into the high backed leather chair.

"Why aren't you, I don't know, huddled in a corner or something?" Jack chuckled, setting the end of his stuff on the rug and once again jumping on, his balance perfect as he crouched down and pulled faces at the nightmare. "Last I saw you were being hunted down by your own fears, you've been down here with them this long, most people would have gone mad."

"Pfft." Pitch scoffed.

"Alright, whatever." Jack huffed, standing up straight and stretching before jumping off his staff, hooking it over his shoulder and ambling over to the bookshelf, which of course was full of incredibly old books. The nightmare nickered distastefully but left him well enough alone. He motioned to touch the ornate covers but was temporarily surprised when a hand hit his away.

"Keep your hands to yourself, those books are worth more than your life, I'll not have you freezing them." Pitch sighed, folding his arms and positioning himself between the boy and his possessions. Jack laughed and kicked away from the ground, floating backwards and towards the fire.

"You're no fun."

"Imagine how your words sting." Pitch said, rolling his eyes and turning to his bookshelf, his long pale fingers gliding along their spines. "You're beginning to annoy me."

"Am I?" Jack grinned, "Then my work here is done."

"Indeed" Pitch replied. Suddenly Jack's stomach coiled and in an instant he found himself back outside.

"Hey!" He snapped. "That's not fair!"

"Nothing ever is" Pitch chuckled from every shadow before Jack found himself alone again.

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End of Prologue~

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..._his hands firm around his staff  
_Take it as you will but on the re-read for this chapter I noticed how god damn dirty that sounded.


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